


The End

by insulphurblue



Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, Robert Downey Jr - Fandom, The Avengers (2012), Tony Stark - Fandom
Genre: Iron Man - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, Other, The Avengers - Freeform, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insulphurblue/pseuds/insulphurblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Write a story in which the character falls in love with the reader. Tony Stark says goodbye as his story ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

“So, baby. . . is this it?”  
I lean forward with my hands braced and try to keep my face blank. That usually doesn't happen without a drink first. Normally a burboun with a tequila chaser, or several. But that feels wrong right now. Not a good moment. Wait, are we having a moment? Damn. Damn. And thinking about burboun and tequila didn't help. It reminded me of that time I flew us out to Catalina and the sun was scorching and we just sort of lay there in the water and I licked lime and salt off that line of your stomach. You used that after-tanning lotion. Yeah that stuff. . .what was the name of it again? Damn damn!. . .I should have gotten that.  
I try to swallow, but I get this feeling like I’m about to choke on a rock. Yeah that drink. . .sounds good right now. I don’t have any idea how I manage to get the next words out.  
“I mean. . .you’re, what, at the end of the page right? Almost finished scrolling?”  
The whole world almost seems to stop moving. Almost like someone’s pushed the pause button on the remote. Like you've stopped. Hesitated. Maybe on the verge of asking me something. No, I don’t want you to ask me anything. I wish this really was paused. I wished. Wished wished wished.  
I wish for a lot of things.  
“Don’t ask. No, really sweetcheeks. Don’t ask me how I know. Everything is just sorta. . .stopped right now. It’s like that thing, you know. On a roller coaster. Right before you go down and everything just speeds up, and then the ride’s over.”  
I slide down against my workbench and ignore the couple of things I bump that fall around me. Dummy chirps something but I’m really not listening. Still really slow, everything. . . everything around me. Like Afghanistan all over again. The pain comes back like it happened only yesterday. . .the warm sticky red that soaks my chest, the nail-stick flecks of pain every time I took a breath. Yeah it hurt like a bitch, but this. . . this is worse. Because this is all over. I felt like I was dying. I have to glance down at the light on my chest to make sure it hasn't gone out. Nope.  
“You said yes, didn’t you?” I wince, feeling that ache go deeper. “No. . . I didn't hear you. . .but I felt you.” I let my hand tap a little hard knocking sound on the arc reactor. “Right here. Strait to the heart, baby.”  
There are screens up where I’d put the news on not too long ago. I’d beaten the bad guy. I’d won. I should have felt good, but instead, I felt . . .what? Anxious. Sorry, even. I can hear the weatherman announcing something in the background. Suddenly in New York this monster of a storm has kicked up. They’re sayin’ it’s raining cats and dogs. The thunderstorm of the century.  
I look up and click my tongue “Fucking . . . no, don’t cry baby. Don’t do that. I’m sorry, really. I really am. I wish I could be there. I’d buy you a fucking castle, if I could be there. Put you up somewhere real nice, you know? You could take the plane anywhere you wanted. Hell, we wouldn't need a plane. I’d build you a suit. We could just fly there together. Right? “  
On the screen display they show a picture of the storm. Lighting’s flashing. They say the surge is bad. Then they show the radar picture, a blot of pink and orange and then a little bit of yellow, which meant, of course, lighter rain. NOAA’s having a field day with this one. Maybe I should go out tonight.  
The screen flickers again to the announcer. And we want to remind everyone to stay in, stay safe. Lock your windows, have your emergency supplies onhand. . .  
I stare at it for a moment and feel that pulling and that ache in my chest again. It nearly sucks my breath right out of me. Maybe I’m going into cardiac arrest again for some weird reason. . . nah. Being melodramatic, maybe.  
“Me. . .?” my foot is tapping on the floor as I watch, and think about it for a second. These were tennis shoes that were stupid cheap. I should have worn the Vuitton today, or the Hugo maybe. Dressed up real nice for you for the occasion. Shit, I could even be in the suit. You always did like watching me step out of that. Who knew why, I can’t imagine I smelled like a basket of roses or anything.  
Oh yeah. Hot and sweaty.  
I feel fire down below and that nearly manages to piss me off. This happened too soon.  
“. . I don’t know.” I say finally. “I’ll be OK, I think. . . I mean. I don’t know what happens when the story’s over, you know? There are a hundred out there you know. A thousand, maybe. A lot of different me’s. Shit I’m a movie star, too!” I laugh a little. Then, the laugh is gone, just like that. I have to rub my arms to bring the warmth back in them. My eyes sting and go raw. ”Should have sat down at the baby grand. . .gone over to Malibu. I could have opened a Montrachet and sent you off right.” Gawddamnit. Now I really hate myself.  
Another twist of the knife in my chest. Fear, I feel. You’re asking me if I’m afraid?  
I laugh for you. Or at least, I try. I’m also thinking I probably fail miserably. “. . .SCARED? Me? Hell no. Didn’t anyone tell you? I’m Iron Man. Superhero and everything. I don’t get scared. Baby I’m a phenomenon under pressure.”  
Something wet hits my hand. Ah damnit. ” . . .I mean it’s not like you can’t come back to this again, right? Just read it again? Open a browser, scroll again. . .I’ll always be here. Shit, come back here enough and you might not even have to open the page. This has been a hell of a ride babe. We can do this a hundred times, a thousand even. . .”  
I pause.  
“This will all come back. All over again.”  
I can hear the rain now. It’s pounding outside on the window. The anchorman was right. Talk about in for some bad weather. . .  
“Listen, baby. Before this is all over. . .look.” I feel the shrapnel in my chest now. Feel every piece of it inching toward my heart. Every single piece has your name written on it. They have to, because this is torture. Worse than the sandbox. Except for that I know I can’t hide that from you. So I have to get the words out. Tony Stark; Genius Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist. Yours. That’s what I write on that pain in my chest. Yours. “It was worth it. To get to you. . . I mean. All of it. Dad. . .The desert. . New York. . .all of it. I got here didn't I? I got to you. I've met gods and monsters but fuck all of it if you weren't the most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen. And I love you. I love you baby, I want you to know that. I love you. So fucking much. So when you get back to these stories, even if you go somewhere else. . .just. Remember okay. .? I’m not doing it for them. It was all for you.”  
It’s almost too much. Can’t let my voice break now. I’m Iron Man and I have to be strong, because that’s kinda my thing. That’s what I do. Iron Man doesn’t break. Heroes don’t break. You'd taught me that.   
“It’s your turn now, Baby. You have to do this. You have to make it through the desert. This was always the plan. Just keep going. And if they try to tell you this wasn't real, you can come back. I’ll be here. I’ll pull you out of that cave. We’ll do it together next time, ok?”  
The lights around me flicker. The storm outside is getting worse.  
On the interface, I hear a voice. Someone is talking. It sounds familiar. Warm and familiar. I recognize it. I look up and your face is on the TV. Your voice. . . and it’s spilling through time and virtual space, crossing over. It hums through the house, through the room. And I can hear everything. I can hear the heartache in your tone, the desperation, the desire and the pain, right down to how your sorrow breaks against the digital screen like the storm surge that rolls up behind you on the screen.  
“I won’t forget you. . .” you say. “I’ll come back. I swear, Tony, I’ll come back. . .!”  
All the lights go out. The screen disappears.  
The end.


End file.
